by Sharon Sala
“Is he somebody? Davis Benton, I mean.”
Roman nodded. “‘Somebody’ is hardly the word. The man is a megamillionaire. Controls a huge share of the computer market.”
She thought of the money in the bag. Maybe that would explain why she had so much with her. But that didn’t really make sense. No one, no matter how rich, carried hundreds of thousands of dollars around in a bag.
“Is that me, Roman? Am I Holly Benton?”
Roman shrugged. “Most probably. Royal indicated that her father was pretty upset about the fact that the search was called off without finding her.”
She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God. Why can’t I remember something as important as a parent?”
Roman’s belly was in a knot. Once he said it, there would be something worse between them than their earlier suspicions of each other. There would be the guilt. Hers for not remembering she was about to become a bride. His for taking what had been meant for another man.
“Do the names Gordon or Billy Mallory mean anything to you?”
Damn you, Billy! What have you done?
She jerked. The voice had come out of nowhere, and with it, an inordinate degree of fear. Her voice was trembling and it was all she could do not to cry.
“Why?”
Roman took a deep breath. “Because Holly Benton was on her way to the Bahamas with one of the brothers to get married.”
She stood abruptly, her words running into each other like tumbling blocks. “No. That isn’t me...wasn’t me. I would remember something like that. I would remember loving—”
Roman took her by the shoulders, holding her until she was forced to look at him.
“Don’t fight a truth we both knew could be there. We did what we did, and it can’t be taken back. But—”
Daisy tore free of his grasp, her eyes huge and filled with tears.
“Don’t you understand? I don’t want to take it back!” She pressed the flat of her hand over the center of her heart as tears fell down her face. “It’s not true!” she cried. “I would know it in here if it were so.”
Roman reached out for her, but she spun and ran for the stairs. There was a pain in his chest that kept spreading, threatening to swallow him whole. He wanted to go with her, to run and hide, but there was nowhere to go. Once a truth had been spoken, it became impossible to deny its existence.
When he turned away, there was a stillness on his face that his family would have known, and for which they would have grieved. It was the wall behind which he lived. This woman hadn’t died, but he was losing her just the same.
He picked up his phone and walked into the kitchen to hunt for a paper and pen. He had some calls to make. Somewhere in the city of Denver, one man believed he’d lost a daughter, while another believed he’d lost his future wife. Neither deserved to spend an added night living with such sorrow.
Davis Benton was coming up the hall to his room when he heard a phone beginning to ring. His heart began to pound. It was coming from inside his room. He jammed the key in the lock and dashed toward it. Slightly winded, his voice was unusually curt.
“Hello. Benton here.”
When Roman heard the man’s voice, another knot was added to the others sitting in the pit of his stomach. This was one more step to the distance he was putting between himself and Daisy.
“Mr. Benton, my name is Roman Justice. I’m a private investigator out of Dallas, Texas.”
Davis frowned. He’d had a few quack calls already, one from a lawyer offering to sue the dead pilot’s family for the loss of his daughter, and another from a psychic who claimed she’d seen his daughter safe and sound and asleep in some cave. The urge to hang up was strong, but something made him hesitate.
“Look, Mr. Justice. I don’t know why you’re calling, but I can assure you that whatever services you think you can offer, I have more and better ones already at my disposal. So thank you, but no—”
“There is a woman standing beside me who doesn’t remember her name. A few days ago, I came up to Colorado for a fishing trip and found her in my cabin. She claims to have parachuted out of a plane.”
Davis froze. Please God, don’t let this be a scam.
There was a distinct silence, and for a moment, Roman thought the man had hung up.
“Mr. Benton?”
Davis stuttered, trying to regain his composure. “If this is some hellish scheme to extort money from me, I swear I’ll have you—”
Roman interrupted before the threat could be made. “Look, Mr. Benton. I don’t want your money. I’m trying to help Daisy, not you.”
Davis’s heart sank. “It can’t be my daughter,” he said. “Her name is Holly.”
If Roman hadn’t been hurting so much inside, he would have managed a smile. “I told you, she doesn’t remember who she is. I’m the one who gave her that name.”
No longer able to stand, Davis dropped to the side of the bed. “My God, my God,” he whispered, and wiped a hand across his face.
“Mr. Benton?”
Davis shook off his shock. “Yes?”
“Will you describe your daughter to me?”
Davis frowned. He hadn’t become wealthy by being stupid.
“No, you describe this...this...Daisy person to me.”
Roman swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Daisy, honey, come here, okay?”
When Daisy walked into Roman’s arms, the fear on her face was almost palpable. Yet when his arms came around her, she knew that for a while, she was safe.
Roman gazed down at her face while talking to Davis Benton on the phone.
“She’s not very big. In fact, the top of her head doesn’t quite touch my chin, and I’m over six feet. Her hair is dark and shoulder length. Her eyes are green and there is a very small scar beneath her chin. When she laughs, her nose wrinkles just above the bridge and—”
Davis started to cry. “Oh God, oh God, that’s my Holly. Please, let me talk to her. Let me hear her voice.”
The weight around Roman’s heart continued to pull as he looked down into Daisy’s face.
“Just understand one thing, Mr. Benton. She doesn’t remember her own name, so she’s probably not going to remember you, either.”
Davis nodded, and then realized they couldn’t see. “Yes, yes, I understand,” he said quickly. “Just let me hear. I’ll know for sure if I hear her voice.”
Roman handed Daisy the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
Her hands were shaking, but her voice was calm. As long as Roman was beside her, she could handle anything that came her way.
“Hello?”
Davis choked on another sob. “Holly? Holly? Is that you?”
Daisy sighed. “I don’t know, but I wish to God I did. It’s very disconcerting to look into a mirror and see a stranger.”
Davis’s pulse leaped. That voice! That voice! He would have known it anywhere.
“Holly, sweetheart, it is you! Dear Lord, how has this happened? Why did you parachute from the plane? Why haven’t you called sooner? Why—?”
Daisy paled. There were too many questions for which she had no answers. She thrust the phone back at Roman and hid her face against his chest.
Roman took the phone from her hands as he pulled her close.
“Mr. Benton, this is Roman Justice again. I don’t know what you were saying just now, but Daisy is pretty upset. I think she’s a little overwhelmed by all of this.”
Davis took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Of course. I don’t know what I was thinking. But there are so many things I want to know.”
“Yes, sir, and so does she. Unfortunately for her, she remembers nothing before coming to in the tree.”
Davis’s voice rose an octave. “Tree?”
Roman almost smiled. “Yes, sir. She dropped into a very wooded area, and the parachute got caught in a tree. She’ll have to tell you all of that at a later date, but I’ll say one thing for her, she’s quite a survivor.”
&nb
sp; Davis could not contain his joy. “You must tell me how to get there. I can’t wait to touch her. To hold her.” His voice broke. “My God, I’ve been trying to face planning her funeral.”
Roman understood all too well how Davis must have felt, because right now, he was facing a loss of his own.
“I understand, sir. But there’s too much snow up here yet to drive down.”
“To hell with driving down,” Davis shouted. “I’m coming up in a chopper. Just tell me where you are from the nearest city. We’ll find you.”
Roman gave him directions, all the while knowing that within a matter of hours, Daisy would be gone from him forever.
“Do I have them down right?” Davis asked after reading the directions back to Roman.
“Yes.”
Davis glanced down at his watch. “It’s probably too late to get there today. We’re about out of light. But I’ll be there early tomorrow.” His voice rose again, as the joy of his planning became obvious. “My word! I just realized during all of this time I never once thought of Gordon. He’s going to be ecstatic. They were eloping, you know!”
Roman’s arm unconsciously tightened around Daisy’s shoulders. So, it was Gordon Mallory. He couldn’t find the will to comment.
“Mr. Justice, you’ll never know what this call has meant to me,” Davis said.
And you’ll never know what this call cost me. “Yes, sir. I can imagine.”
“May I speak to Holly one more time?” Davis asked. “I want to tell her I’m coming.”
Roman handed Daisy the phone. “Here,” he said quietly. “And hang in there, baby. You’ve come this far. Don’t quit on yourself now.”
She took the phone from his hand and lifted it to her ear.
“Hello.”
“Holly, I’m sorry about before,” Davis said quickly. “I was so excited that I didn’t think about how you must feel.”
She exhaled slowly, accepting the truth of her fate. Within days, Roman would no longer be a part of her life.
“I can understand that,” she said.
“Good! I just want to let you know that I’m coming after you first thing tomorrow.”
Panic hit again as she looked up at Roman. “But that’s not possible,” she said quickly. “There’s still too much snow.”
Davis laughed. “That won’t stop me from getting to you. I’m coming by helicopter. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be safe and sound back in your own home, and this will be nothing more than a bad dream.”
Daisy couldn’t comment. Her heart was breaking. What she’d endured had been all nightmare. With Roman, she’d had a very real glimpse of heaven on earth. Leaving him seemed impossible to consider.
“Oh,” Davis added. “I’m on my way to the hospital now to tell Gordon face-to-face. I can’t wait to see his expression when I tell him his future wife is still alive.”
Daisy wanted to scream. This was the real nightmare. “I don’t remember promising to marry anyone,” she said quickly. “Please, Mr. Benton, I don’t want to—”
Davis interrupted. “I know. I know. I just meant that Gordon should know. In no way would I shove him down your throat. Please don’t be afraid. I can’t bear to think you’ll be afraid to come back to your own home.”
Daisy sighed. Obviously, this was something that had to be faced.
“Just as long as you understand.”
“Of course, of course,” Davis said quickly. “Now, you rest easy tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes,” she said. “Tomorrow.” She started to hang up when she heard him shouting. “Yes? Was there something else?” she asked.
Davis knew his voice was shaking, but he wouldn’t let another moment of his life pass without telling her what was on his mind.
“Holly.”
“Yes?”
“I love you, sweetheart. Very, very much.”
When the line went dead in her ear, Daisy handed the phone to Roman. She took one look at the expression on his face, then turned and walked away.
Gordon’s afternoon had been long. He’d gone over the events of the past couple of weeks so many times in his mind that he’d given himself a headache. Once he’d looked up in time to see a uniformed officer pass by his door. He broke out in a sweat, certain that Billy must have talked. When the officer passed without so much as a glance his way, his relief gave way to a hysterical fit of the giggles.
Guilt. That’s all that was wrong with him. Just a case of the guilts. Everything would work out. It had to. He’d planned too diligently and done without for far too long to give it all up now. That money was his. All he had to do was find it.
He was halfway through his supper when he heard Davis Benton’s voice out in the hall. He laid down his fork, preparing himself for a proper attitude of grief. What he got was indigestion instead.
Davis all but ran into the room. His face was wreathed in smiles, and there was a bounce to his step that didn’t make sense.
Gordon frowned. What the hell was going on? This was no proper attitude for a man who’d just lost a daughter.
“Mr. Benton. It was good of you to come,” Gordon said.
Davis laughed and clapped his hands. “This just couldn’t wait,” he said. “She’s alive!”
Gordon froze. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be talking about Holly. He’d seen her sucked out of that plane with that bag hanging around her neck like a deadweight. Even if she had survived the drop, there was no way she could have survived that blizzard.
“This isn’t funny,” Gordon said.
“No,” Davis crowed. “It’s a miracle, that’s what!”
Gordon’s voice cracked. “How do you know? Maybe it’s a mistake!”
“No! No! No mistake! I talked to her on the phone.” He turned in a circle, unable to contain his joy. “I heard her voice. Dear God, I heard her voice!”
Gordon jerked, sending the tray on his table to the floor in a crash of tin and plastic. Moments later, a nurse came running, followed by another.
Davis hugged one and patted the other one on the back. “Sorry about the mess. It’s all my fault,” he said, laughing at no one in particular.
They began cleaning up spilled food while Davis moved to one side, unaware that Gordon’s quiet had nothing to do with shock and everything to do with pure, unadulterated fear. Gordon was convinced that any moment, that officer he’d seen earlier in the day was going to come into the room and place him under arrest. He kept trying to remember the name of that lawyer he’d played poker with back in Vegas, but his mind was blank. What he didn’t understand was why Davis was so damned happy with him. If the situation had been reversed, he would have had murder on his mind. Then he stifled a laugh. The irony of what he just thought was not lost on him. Murder. That’s what had gotten him into trouble in the first place.
Finally, the nurses were gone, and Gordon caught himself holding his breath, waiting for the proverbial ax to fall.
“Look, Mr. Benton, I never intended—”
Davis interrupted. “All this time, we thought she was dead. It wasn’t ever said, but it’s what we thought.”
Gordon nodded. That much was right.
A slight frown dampened Davis’s enthusiasm. “There is a small problem.” And then the frown disappeared. “But nothing that time won’t help, I’m sure.”
Gordon flinched. Here it comes.
“She’s suffering from amnesia. She didn’t recognize me.”
For the first time since Davis Benton had entered his room, Gordon knew a moment of true joy. Hallelujah, he thought. My luck hasn’t all turned bad.
“Not even me?”
Davis frowned. “I’m sorry, but no. Not even you.”
Gordon dropped back onto the pillow and closed his eyes.
There is a God.
Davis read Gordon’s behavior as despair. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Don’t worry, son,” Davis said. “When we get her home—you know, back in her familiar
surroundings—she’ll be her old self in no time, I’m sure. But for now, you must realize her position. We’re all strangers to her. We must restrain from pressuring her in any way. Her emotional state is very fragile.”
Gordon’s relief was so great that he felt like crying. A reprieve. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to go on.
Davis left soon afterward, convinced of Gordon’s love for his daughter. He’d seen the tears in Mallory’s eyes himself. For the first time in days, Davis went to bed with his heart full of hope, while Gordon spent a sleepless night in hell, trying to console himself with the fact that if Holly was alive, then his money must be somewhere nearby.
Roman tossed another log on the fire just as Daisy came out of the bathroom. She was wearing another one of his sweatshirts, and from the looks of her, nothing else. The ends of her hair were damp from her bath, and her face was scrubbed clean. She could have passed for a teenager until he looked in her eyes. They held a look as old as time.
Roman wanted to hold her, but he kept remembering that she’d promised herself to another man. He set the fire screen in place and then looked away, kicking at a small piece of bark that had fallen onto the hearth.
Daisy took a deep breath, and then the words spilled out of her, like blood from a wound.
“I’m afraid of tomorrow.”
He looked up, then nodded. So was he.
Her face crumpled as a sob tore up her throat. Doubling her fists and thumping viciously at the sides of her legs, she began to pace.
“I hate this. I hate everything about it. I thought I wanted to remember, but I was wrong. I don’t want to remember anything but you.” She collapsed on the sofa and buried her face in her hands.
Roman couldn’t stand back any longer. He knelt before her and then took her hands away from her face.
“Look at me!” he demanded.
She turned her face away, unable to face what he might have to say.
Roman ached, for her and for himself, but several hours earlier, he’d accepted a truth about himself. If he had it to do over again, he wouldn’t change one minute of their time together.
